


In Canada, The Retailers Call Them "Igars" To Get Around The Law

by Sab



Category: How I Met Your Mother
Genre: (Uploaded by Punk), Barney's Bucket List, Cigars, F/M, Locked in a Humidor, bros, scotch
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2008-06-22
Updated: 2008-06-22
Packaged: 2017-11-29 13:21:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 348
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/687420
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sab/pseuds/Sab
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Um, did they just lock the door and leave?" Robin asks. (Uploaded by Punk, from iamsab.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	In Canada, The Retailers Call Them "Igars" To Get Around The Law

**Author's Note:**

  * For [ciderpress](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=ciderpress).



> So, because ciderpress is the girl so nice we wish we could friend her _twice_ , (no, really! We do!) and because she made me such fantastic icons, I wrote her a _HIMYM_ drabble which bloated all the way up to 350 words.

"Um, did they just lock the door and leave?" Robin asks, because outside the airlocked humidor the cigar shop is dark and closed and beyond that the street is empty. "Are you kidding me? We're stuck here all night."

The glass cage of the humidor is streaky with trails of smoke sucking upward toward the ceiling vents. His drycleaner, Marisol Gonzales, has a long relationship with his suits and has learned to effectively eradicate cigar smoke, but she's going to have some stern words for him about this. Robin rolls her La Riqueza across her tongue and exhales a perfect smoke ring, and Barney grins and raises his eyebrows to show her he's impressed, and she grins back as he lights his own cigar with three matches at once.

"I know, right? It'll be _legendary!_ " Barney says. "I can finally cross 'spend night in humidor' off my bucket list."

Robin tucks her feet up under her in the leather armchair and finishes her scotch. He pours her three fingers more.

"I'm going to go ahead and remove my tie," Barney says. "But that doesn't mean I'm hitting on you, simply that this is a reasonable situation in which for a bro to unsuit-up."

"I'm going to take off my bra," says Robin, resting her cigar in a heavy glass ashtray. "And you're forbidden to take any visual image of me braless outside this room." She does some acrobatics and pulls a black lace bra from out her right sleeve, and her perky little Canadian nipples pop up to say hello through her blouse. He'd have paid Juan Colon twice the five grand for setting this whole thing up. He switches on his iPod and patches it through the room's speakers.

Barney scoots his ottoman closer to Robin's chair and leans his head back against the refrigerated case. It's midnight. They've got at least twelve more hours in here, and he's got nothing to do but watch Robin, sans bra, suck on ten inches of tightly rolled tobacco leaf. That's another one off the bucket list right there. Awesome.


End file.
